


The Prince and His Knight - Part 1

by KinFletcher



Series: MMX Royal AU [1]
Category: Rockman X | Mega Man X
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Memory Loss, Nightmares, some blood and injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6680971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinFletcher/pseuds/KinFletcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A confused and injured Captain Zero wakes up on the brink of death and is taken back to Cain, where he meets the young Prince X and starts to learn about his past--and fight against it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning among the dead

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone really liked my original piece for The Prince and His Knight, so I decided to make it part of a series. It will probably include some plot adapted from the games as well as plenty of fluff. Thank you so much to everybody who commented and gave kudos!

            The world smelled like blood and soil. He couldn’t open his eyes for a long time, hoping that perhaps if he left them closed, the pain would go away, everything would go away, or at least that he would begin to remember. But none of those things happened, so he pried his lids apart for what felt like the first time in centuries.

            The sky was jarringly bright in contrast to the scene around him. A mace was buried in the ground not more than an arm’s length from his face, coated in blood. Crows and flies floated lazily and loudly for as far as he could see. Death? He couldn’t bring himself to move just yet, so he tried to adjust his eyes, examining the mace. Some part of him knew that it was finely crafted, perfect for bludgeoning, even deadly, but he didn’t know _why_ he knew that. It was made of something black, handle wrapped in leather strips, and a dirty violet ribbon tied to its end whipped in the breeze.

            He twitched a finger, and then made a fist. He bent his arm; it ached almost as badly as his head. He ran his hand along the dirt and brought it up to his face to look at.

            It was covered by a glove, worn with use. He bit the tip of one of the fingers, and the whole gauntlet on his arm slid off, buckles broken. He didn’t recognize this hand. It was somewhat sun-darkened and calloused. It had long, strong fingers.

            The light of the sun reflecting off the armor of dead soldiers all around him was making his head hurt worse, so he closed his eyes again.

            He wasn’t sure if he dozed off then, but it felt like much later when he heard footsteps and voices nearby. He opened his eyes again and struggled to push himself up. The side he had been laying on was surely broken; his own armor dug into his ribs, which felt cracked at the least, judging by the pain of breathing. He tried to call out to whoever was out there, but cut himself short when he didn’t recognize his voice.

            They came anyway.

            “Look there—he’s alive!” A youngish voice. Fine-bred accent.

            Moments later, strong arms lifted him up and he bit back a scream of pain.

            “Only just,” said a gruff voice.

            “Look at his crest. That’s not one of Sigma’s.”

            “One of Wily’s. Should we kill him, sir?”

            He fought to place both feet on the ground and stand on them. His vision was blurred with pain, but he could see three figures in front of him; two tall, surrounding one shorter, thin, dressed in fine blue clothing.

            “But he’s injured,” hesitated the one in blue—the same voice who had found him to begin with.

            “Killing him would ease all that, sir.”

            It was beginning to dawn on him what was going on.

            “Please,” he managed in a hoarse, unfamiliar voice. “Please, I don’t understand any of this.”

            Some part of him squirmed angrily, and he knew at least that he didn’t like pleading.

            “What do you mean?” asked the small figure.

            He continued to try to stand on his own, relieved that his legs, at least, didn’t seem to be broken. “I don’t know where I am,” he tried to explain. Every part of him didn’t just scream in pain; he ached. His body was begging to just die, but his instincts held him together, if only barely. “A battle,” he said slowly, trying to gesture at the field of corpses. “I was a soldier?” His head spun with vague images and emotions. Yes, that was familiar.

            The man holding him up laughed. “Damn, do you really think we believe that? It’s obvious you’re a captain. Look at your armor.”

            He tried to look at his armor, but bending his neck hurt.

            “Let him be,” piped up the small figure in blue. “Maybe he really doesn’t know. What’s your name, captain?”

            “I… I don’t remember,” he said. After a moment, “Zero… I think.” It sounded right.

            “Captain Zero?” whispered one of the men, seemingly in awe. “Do you think he’ll make a useful captive?” he asked hurriedly.

            “Don’t be stupid,” growled the man holding him up. “Wily’s dead. We should just kill this one. He’s killed plenty of our soldiers.”

            “ _Sigma_ ’s soldiers,” corrected the small figure in blue.

            Zero’s legs begged to let out from underneath him. “I don’t know who Wily and Sigma are,” he said wearily. “I don’t know who _you_ are. Why are you here?”

            “Searching for survivors,” said the small figure. Zero imagined that he was the authority out of the group, but he couldn’t piece together why.

            “You were fighting Wily?”

            “Gods, no,” barked the man at his side. “Sigma was fighting Wily.”

            “Then why are you here?” Zero repeated. His ears were ringing.

            “Cleaning up. Execution,” said the man next to the small figure. Zero clenched his teeth, but it made his head hurt and he let out a cry of pain.

            “Look at his helmet,” said the small figure quietly. “It’s dented. There’s blood all over his face. Let’s at least take him back to Cain. He wouldn’t be able to harm us even if he is pretending. He’s too injured.”

            Zero didn’t hear any more, because numbness flooded up into his head and his vision went black.


	2. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get all the exposition for the AU out, hopefully without making it too boring! Thanks so much for your support, everybody!

            Every time he was semi-conscious, Zero decided that he hated not having full control of his faculties. He hated not remembering where or who he was, he hated the haze in his head, and he hated the pain. He also hated himself, for some reason or another he couldn’t really determine. It was just a familiar feeling.

            When he was asleep, Zero decided that he hated that the most of all. His fever dreams quickly turned into nightmares full of blood, laughter, and most terrifying, _fury_. Whenever he woke in a cold sweat he felt the sting of loathing in his throat before it was drowned out by some bitter concoction or another which he was forced to drink—he hated that too—and fell unconscious again.

            So he drifted between dreams of butchery and foggy consciousness, sometimes wondering if he would die soon. But each time he woke he noticed vaguely that the pain was leaving his body, and eventually the fog of nightmares began to break more often. He began to be grateful for the increasingly frequent escapes from the seething anger his dreams brought.

            One day he woke enough to turn his head and look at his surroundings.

            He was situated on a somewhat rickety bed; a table beside it provided a surface for a jug, a swath of bandages, and several metal instruments Zero didn’t care to ponder the use of. He seemed to be in a stable-like structure; wooden walls created a miniature room penning him in from a larger, stone hall which he couldn’t see the rest of. Blue curtains served as an entryway some distance from the foot of the bed.

            As Zero struggled to raise his head and look at himself, the curtains were pushed open and a hard-faced man entered. He stopped when he saw that Zero was awake, and pursed his lips into a thin line.

            “How are you feeling?” he asked, and Zero could tell immediately that the answer didn’t really matter to him.

            Zero said nothing.

            The man cocked an eyebrow and continued inside, making his way to the table and emptying a bottle of some thin yellow liquid into the jug. Zero wanted to put out a hand and stop him as he held the bottle to his mouth, but he realized that his wrist was strapped down to the bed.

            -

            Zero was eventually allowed to stay awake longer when he began speaking to the man—evidently his doctor. He kept his responses quick and curt, more preoccupied with his nightmares and the feeling of being trapped. He couldn’t decide whether the bindings on his limbs were for setting his bones or for restraining him, but his unspoken question was answered soon enough when he was finally permitted to stand and walk. The doctor unbuckled the straps around his wrists and sniffed.

            “I suspect you’ll be able to relieve yourself now,” he said. Zero paused at the remark before a flare of anger and shame spread up into his chest. He took a deep breath as the sudden urge to hurt the man rose up and almost overtook him. After that, he tried to disguise his shudders of fear as unsteadiness on his feet.

            His body still ached, but it was bearable, more bedsores than broken limbs. How long had he been lost in his nightmares? Still, each time he was escorted to the lavatories flanked by guards dressed in leather armor, he almost wished that he was still unconscious.

            But he slowly regained his strength—even if he wasn’t allowed to exercise it—and ate a little more and stayed awake a little longer every day. He finally began to distinguish night from day. After what he counted to be six days since he fully recovered consciousness, the doctor informed him that important persons would be coming to visit him and did he want to bathe himself?

            Some part of Zero wanted to say no out of stubbornness and the knowledge that he would be watched, as always, by guards, but he swallowed his pride and agreed.

            Bathing used muscles Zero realized he hadn’t exercised in… how long? He still didn’t know. He was starting to savor the pain now that it meant he was finally able to move again, and scrubbed himself until his skin hurt. His left arm was still fragile, but his ribs felt better, and all but the largest of the gashes he’d found on his body had turned to scars. By the time he left the tub, though, the linen at the bottom was pink; some wound must have reopened. But Zero didn’t care. Feeling clean again was a relief; it made him feel a little less like an animal.

            After he was escorted back to his section of the hospital, the doctor _tsk_ ed at the blood dripping down between his shoulders. He insisted that Zero get back in bed, but allowed him to comb his hair, watching him carefully. Zero didn’t remember having hair so long; untangling all the snarls it had developed took nearly half an hour by his estimation. His head ached as he ran the comb through his hair, but he struggled through it. The whole time, a guard leaned in the corner and watched him warily. Finally he laid back and let the doctor buckle his arms and legs down again; only then did the guard leave.

            He made his face blank and set his jaw when the curtains finally opened again and four people filed in. He now sorely wished that he hadn’t split the gash in his back open in the tub. He felt all too exposed in only trousers and the bandages wrapped around his chest while the other four all wore full flowing garments or armor.

            “Zero,” said the elderly man at the head of the group, as though tasting the name on his tongue. “Do you know who I am?”

            Zero looked at him. He had a long white beard over regal white robes, and a massive crown on his balding forehead. He was obviously the king of this place.

            “I don’t,” said Zero.

            “I don’t, _Your Grace_ ,” growled the tallest man in the group. Zero resisted the urge to glare at him. He was one of the two wearing armor; a heavy steel tunic and black plated gauntlets. A sword in a red sheath hung at his belt. He could slash Zero open with one stroke if he chose. And he looked as though he might well like to.

            “I don’t, Your Grace,” repeated Zero quietly.

            “Don’t scare him, Colonel,” said the old man. Zero bristled at the idea that he thought he could be _scared_. “I am King Regent Cain,” said the old man, “and this is Colonel Beryl. Most of us simply call him Colonel.”

            Colonel didn’t look at Zero.

            Cain cleared his throat. “Ah, and this is Lieutenant Signas,” he said, gesturing to a cool-looking man in dark armor, “and, of course, Prince X.”

            Zero started when his gaze was directed to the small figure dressed in blue. Prince X smiled shyly and looked at the floor. Zero wished that he had asked the doctor for a shirt before being bound down. _X_. The name sounded so familiar.

            “You remember our prince,” said Cain.

            “I recognize him from the field,” said Zero tersely, “where I woke up not remembering anything.”

            “Ah, and I suppose that is the crux of the matter,” sighed Cain. He glanced at the doctor.

            “If I may, Your Grace, he did sustain a nearly fatal blow to the head,” said the doctor. Zero was surprised to hear him defending him. “It could potentially have led to this amnesia.”

            “I still say we throw him in the dungeons with Vile,” said Colonel, scowling.

            “Not until we know the truth,” said Cain calmly.

            “What truth?” asked Zero, frustration bubbling in his stomach. “Why am I tied up here? Why do you have guards follow me everywhere?”

            Colonel’s hand went to his sword, and Cain’s brow furrowed.

            “Zero,” said Cain, “You really don’t remember… anything?”

            “I’ve said _no_ ,” said Zero angrily.

            A movement in the corner of his vision caught his eye. Prince X put his hand on Cain’s sleeve.

            “I think he’s telling the truth,” said the prince quietly. Cain’s gaze softened as he looked at the prince.

            “You are the son of King Wily,” said Cain slowly, turning back to Zero. He paused for a moment, as though he thought this might spark Zero to try and attack them. “He bred you into an expert captain. You were—and still are—known across many countries as a violent and cunning killer.”

            Zero closed his eyes and took a breath through his nose. That would explain the doctor’s attitude.

            “So that’s why I’m shackled here,” he said. “You think I’ll try to escape, or kill someone, or something.”

            “Well…” Cain stroked his beard. “I suppose that would be true.” Zero thought he saw a small twinkle of humor in the man’s eye. He didn’t find it very funny. His nightmares were beginning to make sense.

            “Our previous captain, before Colonel here, defected several months ago,” continued Cain. “His armies… er, well, they attacked Wily’s kingdom and took it over.”

            They all looked at him calculatingly, but Zero kept his face blank. The story had no meaning to him.

            “It seems that you and a band of your elite soldiers managed to escape, but Sigma—the previous captain—tracked you down near our border and… well, that’s where we found you.” He finished with a shrug.

            “You were all bloody and your armor was broken,” said X, voice soft as ever.

            Zero realized that his options were limited at this point. If what they were telling him was true—and he had no choice but to believe them—then he had no room to be belligerent.

            “What do you intend to do with me now?” he asked.

            Cain stroked his beard. “That remains to be seen.” He turned to X. “What do you think, Your Highness? You’re the future ruler here.”

            X quailed. “I—I don’t want to hurt him,” he said. “I think he doesn’t remember anything. If I woke up and forgot who I was…” he paused for a moment, looking solemn. “I’d want somebody to help me start over, I think.”

            Cain cocked his head. “You never cease to amaze me with your simplistic brilliance,” he said affectionately. “How would you feel about helping this Zero start over?”

            “Absurd,” Colonel barked. “Your Grace, he’ll kill the prince the instant the two are alone.”

            “I’m well aware of the risks,” said Cain coolly. “The two will not be alone together, at least not until Zero has proven himself.”

            “Proven himself,” muttered Colonel. “He has nothing to prove.”

            Cain ignored him. “Signas, please take a seat just outside and keep eyes and ears open. X, I would like you to stay here and talk to Zero for a while. Signas will escort you to dinner in a short while.”

            “Your Grace,” said the doctor, “Should I stay?”

            “I think not,” said the king regent, giving Zero one last glance; Zero couldn’t discern his expression. Then they all shuffled out, leaving Zero alone—mostly—with the boy who had saved his life.

            X played with the wide sleeve of his tunic, avoiding Zero’s gaze. Zero realized that the prince had never actually agreed to Cain’s plan.

            “You know, if you don’t want to be here, you can always go after him and tell him to think up some other scheme.”

            “Oh!” Zero thought he saw X blush. “No, I don’t mind at all. It’s just…” he looked down at his hands. “They didn’t really tell you everything.”

            Zero said nothing.

            “There was a lieutenant in the battle—the one where you… the one we found you after. She was Colonel’s sister. Iris.”

            _‘Was’_ , thought Zero. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

            X’s lip trembled, and he nodded.

            So that was why Colonel was so aggressive towards him. He didn’t know what to say. He supposed he ought to apologize, but it wasn’t something he even remembered doing.

            “I thought you’d be sad,” said X. “Colonel told me that you two were close.”

            “I don’t remember her,” Zero sighed. Yet another reason for Colonel to hate him. “How come you don’t call Cain ‘father’? He’s king and you’re prince, right?” he asked.

            “Cain’s my uncle, actually,” said X, seemingly relieved to be off the topic of Colonel and his sister. “My father died a long time ago. I don’t remember him.”

            “King _regent_ ,” said Zero thoughtfully. “How old are you? You’ll take over when you come of age?”

            “Um… I’m 15, but… I don’t really want to rule,” said X softly. “We’re often under attack and I… I don’t really like fighting.”

            Zero looked at the prince. He certainly had the body of a 14-year-old; small but awkwardly long in the limbs, just coming into his muscles. He still had baby fat around his cheeks. But his eyes were so deep and green, like… like peridots, or something. Zero cursed himself. _He’s 15 and the prince_ , he told himself sternly.

            “How old am I?” he asked, trying to steal his mind away from the image of X’s fathomless green eyes.

            “Cain said you’re around my age,” said X, shrugging. “But you must be a little older, because you’re so strong and smart.”

            Zero looked at himself. His body still looked unfamiliar to him, but some part of him knew that the weeks in bed had taken away the bulk of his muscles. Just looking at his wan body made him feel tired.

            “How long has it been since you found me?”

            “Three months, I think,” said the prince. “Lifesaver said that you were sick and your arm and ribs were broken. It must have been really painful.”

            Zero shrugged. Three months. He was more surprised that X had asked after him during that time; he must have if he knew that Zero had been sick.

            “What is this place, anyway?” he asked eventually.

            X launched into an explanation. The country was called Abel; it bordered a small ally kingdom called Doppler. Wily’s kingdom had been across no man’s land, but Sigma occupied the area now, and had dubbed it Maverick. Zero closed his eyes as he listened. It all had a little ring of familiarity, but not enough to wake his memory, and now that he understood his nightmares, he was glad of that. He drifted off a little as X chattered about the politics of the country. The boy had a soothing voice, quiet and kind, enough so that Zero relaxed enough to drift to sleep. When he woke again, the hospital was dark, and X was gone.


	3. War Captive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say how grateful I am for this gorgeous fanart made by serialscribbles on Tumblr! http://serialscribbles.tumblr.com/post/151687087490  
> Please check out her art, she is such a kind soul and makes absolutely beautiful drawings! <333

            “What a fresh day! Isn’t it wonderful?”

            The sun was beginning to mount up in the sky. Dew dripped from the leaves of rose bushes all around them and everything smelled of greenery. Zero looked sullenly at the prince. X had stopped and was cupping his hands around a particularly large white rose, admiring it with wide, innocent eyes. Zero sighed, glancing over his shoulder. Guards followed them not five paces behind. He hadn’t said a word to the prince thus far.

            “Listen, X—uh—Your Highness…”

            X stood upright to look at him, smiling benignly. Zero found himself tripping over his words when he saw that smile, so he focused on a rose cane crawling around a trellis up ahead.

            “I’m sorry for falling asleep yesterday. Um, when you were talking to me. Sire.” he said.

            Out of the corner of his eye he saw X smile wider and nod his head. “That’s all right,” he said cheerfully. “Signas says that I talk too much anyway.”

            Zero frowned, but said nothing. They continued on their walk around the gardens. Zero’s legs ached and his new clothing chafed his bed sores, but he struggled on without complaining. X chattered about the various flowers and how they were growing, as though they were his friends. He seemed happy to be on his own, outside of the castle, but that was soon cut short as one of the guards behind them cleared her throat. Zero and X stopped and turned to see Signas approaching them, hands clasped behind his back.

            “Noontide,” said Signas. He gave a terse smile. “It’s time for your swordplay lesson, my prince.”

            X looked down. “All right,” he said solemnly. Zero didn’t like the way his demeanor changed so suddenly, but the thought of observing a swordplay lesson made him perk up. He looked at Signas, who nodded at his unspoken question and beckoned for him to follow them both.

 

-

 

            Zero slumped to the ground at the side of the sparring pit as soon as he was sure that nobody was watching him and sighed, leaning his head against the wall. He watched wearily as Signas buckled X’s equipment on and handed him a rapier—the boy was obviously not tall or strong enough yet to wield anything larger. Signas himself took a blunted practice sword and the two began, going slowly through drills. Every so often Signas would tap X gently with his sword to correct him, or stop to go through footwork.

            Zero was bored. Even though he didn’t recall ever doing similar drills, he felt sure that he already knew what Signas was teaching. He watched X’s expression for a while, brow furrowed in concentration, but the sand of the pit and the two figures began blurring as his thoughts drifted and then turned to darkness as he dozed, dreaming of blood and shattered armor.

            The sound of king regent Cain’s voice jolted him awake, and he tried to sit upright.

            “We have an ambassador from Doppler visiting today, you’ll recall,” Cain called from the edge of the pit, addressing X. “Get yourself cleaned up so that we can have tea with him, hmm?”

            As Signas began helping a sweating X out of his armor, Cain set one foot on the sand and bent a little towards Zero. Zero set his jaw.

            “How are you feeling today, Zero?” Cain asked, smiling. He looked tired.

            “Fine, Your Grace,” said Zero stiffly.

            Cain nodded. “I’ve had my steward make arrangements for your new quarters outside of the hospital. Our Signas will show you to them momentarily.”

            Zero paused. His own quarters here in the castle? He tried to stutter a thank you, but the king regent merely waved his hand and left, lifting his long cape to be sure that it wouldn’t brush in the sand.

            “Bye, Zero,” said X as the guard at the door left his position to escort the prince out of the pit. Zero thought he detected a hint of sadness in the prince’s voice and tried his best not to assume that it was because they had to part ways for the time being. He waved good-bye as Signas set the armor and swords carefully on their stands and turned to march toward him. He offered no help as Zero struggled to his feet, cheeks coloring with shame.

            “I’m to show you to your quarters,” he said. Zero couldn’t read his tone. He followed Signas out of the sparring pit. Zero masked his pain as he tried to keep up with the tall lieutenant’s brisk stride. He tried to remember his way through this portion of the castle as they turned corners and walked by, but his head hurt, and he supposed that it wouldn’t matter anyway since he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere on his own.

            Finally they stopped on a landing between two flights of stairs in some tower or another. Signas unlocked a heavy wooden door and Zero stepped inside.

            Zero tried to disguise how out of breath he was as he looked around the room. It was small, which didn’t matter much to him as he had no possessions to place in it, but the only window was too small to even let in more than a little light, and the bed looked less than comfortable. The whole place was dreary and dark.

            “I hope that you’ll find it to your liking,” said Signas. Zero would have scoffed if he was in more of a position to do so.

            “Thank you, sir,” he said, mustering as much civility as he could. Signas nodded somewhat coldly and swept out, closing the door behind him. Zero stood for a few moments, listening to his steps descending down the tower, before heading to the door and trying the handle. Locked. Of course. A small slat was situated at eye level; guards could look into the room to observe him when they chose. He walked over to the window. Its view was spectacular; the wall of another tower straight ahead, and the moat below. Zero glowered. He couldn’t even fit his shoulders through it.

            After rifling through the drawers and cabinets, Zero found no more than a few candles and matchboxes, some simple sets of clothing, and chamber pots. He sighed. The room was more like a prison than anything else.

            He shut the tiny set of gray curtains over the windows and dropped onto his bed, quickly falling into a sleep of nightmares.

 

-

 

            Three weeks had passed since Zero’s first ventures out with X, and still nearly every morning X insisted that they walk through the gardens. The only exceptions were two days of heavy rain, during which they had instead visited a small sanctuary of carefully-tended indoor plants, surrounding a pedestal with a life-size statue of a man Zero didn’t recognize. X explained that the statue was of his father, King Light, and that the statue would be replaced upon the next king’s death with one of that ruler, and retired to the catacombs. Zero didn’t like to imagine X’s statue on the pedestal, but the prince didn’t seem perturbed, instead smiling fondly up at the father he had never known.

            On this particular morning, however, it was out to the gardens again, and though Zero had started to come around to X’s way of seeing the flowers as friends—he started to recognize individual ones and notice their progress as the summer went by—he was intensely bored. His mornings and occasional afternoons with X were his only escapes; otherwise he was locked in his own personal prison. He was beginning to wonder when it would all end.

            After only a few minutes, dark clouds began to roll in, and one of the guards ever-present behind them suggested that they head inside. X looked put out for a moment but then perked up, looking at Zero.

            “Why don’t we go to your room?” he asked excitedly. “I heard you have your own quarters now!”

            Zero went pale, looking at the guards, who both hesitated. Before he could say anything, X insisted cheerfully, taking Zero’s sleeve, and they were off. Dread pooled in the pit of Zero’s stomach; he knew that a talk with X about his situation was coming, and he was not excited about the prospect.

            X looked puzzled as they turned and began up the tower to Zero’s quarters.

            “Huh,” he said quietly. “I thought this was where Signas lived.”

            Zero paled.

            When they reached the door and X excitedly rushed inside, Zero stole one last look at the guards before following him. The prince’s smile quickly faded as he turned on the spot, looking at the sparse furniture and stone walls.

            “It’s… like a prison cell,” he said.

            Zero shrugged, folding his arms and looking at his feet. “Am I not a prisoner?”

            “They didn’t even give you any books, or things to write with, or… anything!” X’s voice grew indignant. “You’re not a prisoner, you’re a war captive, and you’re my friend. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

            Zero looked up, shocked. A tiny gasp from one of the soldiers behind him echoed his surprise. He opened his mouth but his tongue felt stuck. X really considered him a friend? That couldn’t be right; he was more like a burden, trailing along behind the prince like a dog, hardly talking, mistrusted by every guard and servant in the castle.

            “Do you want decorations? I have too many. I’ll bring them here.” X touched his arm and Zero’s tongue turned to lead. “Aren’t you bored?” he asked gently.

            Zero swallowed hard and then nodded slowly. X folded his arms. “I should think so,” he said, a childish little note creeping into his voice which almost made Zero smile. “What would you like to do about it?”

            Zero tried to unglue his mind from the satisfaction he felt at X fussing over him to try to think of an answer, but before he could, he heard the guards just outside the door shuffling.

            “Oh, hello, Your Highness,” said Cain, peering into the room. “What a surprise to see you here. Zero.” He nodded his head to Zero.

            “Uncle,” X began, and Zero put a hand over his mouth to hide his grin. “Zero is my friend, and I won’t have him locked up in this place like a prison cell all day.”

            “Quite right,” said Cain, imitating X’s serious tone. The corners of his mouth twitched. “What say we all have tea together and discuss it?”

            Zero’s little bubble of excitement sank and then popped. The thought of tea with both X and Cain rattled him, but X nodded and turned to Zero, putting his hands on his shoulders and looking at him earnestly. “It’ll be fun and we can help; you’ll come, won’t you?” he said. Zero’s throat closed when he met X’s stupid, beautiful green eyes. He nodded helplessly.

            Cain instructed the guards to escort Zero to the royal dining chambers in two hour’s time, and then he and X left and the door was closed behind them. Zero threw himself on his bed and buried his face in his pillow.

            He didn’t have long to sort out his feelings, however, before the door was thrown open again and X reappeared, arms laden with books. A few servants trailed behind him, carrying various other accoutrements. X chattered happily as he placed the books on the shelves, telling Zero about each one—this one was his favorite, all about a knight and his faithful dog who fought evil men, this one was about Abel’s history, wouldn’t that be useful for Zero, this one had fairy tales, and so on. The servants rolled out a plush rug which barely fit the floor of the small room. A stack of paper, quills, and inkwells were deposited in a drawer. A banner and a painting were fixed on the walls. X accepted the last item from one of the servants and then turned to Zero, holding it out to him. A potted rose.

            “This is one of my favorites from the gardens,” he said, looking affectionately at the flower. “I thought it would fit in your window.”

            Zero took the pot carefully, speechless.

            “That should make this place a little better for now,” said X, looking around and nodding happily. “I’ll still see you at tea?”

            Zero unstuck his tongue. “Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you. I mean—thank you, Your Highness.”

            X shook his head. “Just X, please.”

            “Thank you, X,” said Zero, and watched open-mouthed as the prince and the servants shuffled out. He looked down at the plant in his hands. The pot was weighted so that it wouldn’t be knocked over by breezes or rain in the window. The rose still smelled of soil from being transplanted. Its petals were velvety, white with the softest tint of pink. Zero placed it delicately in his windowsill, looked at it for a moment longer, and then went to dress himself as best he could for tea.

           

-

           

            When Zero was escorted to the royal dining room, he blanched at the discovery that Signas was also sitting beside Cain and X, waiting for him. He tried to keep his face blank as he entered and sat. The furniture and drapery in the room was all decadent, and the floor was made of some sort of polished stone which reflected the light of the candle brackets along the walls.

            Cain and X made easy conversation while Signas commented pleasantly every so often, and Zero felt almost invisible until the tea was served. He took a large sip from his cup and burned his tongue just to feel something other than his nerves. After a few more minutes, Cain finally turned to Zero.

            “So, Zero. Prince X informs me that you’re bored.”

            All eyes were on him. Zero swallowed. “That’s true,” he said, surprising himself with the false confidence he managed in his tone. “Outside of my time with X, I’ve spent the last three weeks locked in my room with very little to do. Your Grace,” he added hastily.

            “I see,” said Cain. He took a sip from his tea. “Just what is it that you would like to do with your time?”

            Zero paused. He hadn’t been prepared for that question, and silently berated himself. “I… don’t know, Your Grace,” he said after a pregnant silence. “I suppose that I simply don’t like feeling trapped.”

            Cain hummed, taking another sip of his tea. He wrinkled his nose at it. “I hate this nonsense. Why do we drink it so often?”

            “You said that tea was preferable to alcohol in the company of the prince, Your Grace,” replied Signas.

            “Ah. Well, there’s nothing to be done about it.” Cain set his tea down and steepled his fingers. “As, I suppose, there is nothing to be done about your status as a war captive for now, Zero.”

            Zero’s heart sank.

            “However, I do believe that I have an idea which might relieve your boredom and, I believe, help you to feel just a little less ‘trapped’, as you say.” He turned to Signas. “Lieutenant, I would like you to allow Zero to practice swordplay with Special Brigade 0.” He smiled slightly. “A fitting name, I think.”

            Signas pursed his lips. “Are you sure that’s wise, Your Grace? Knowing Zero’s past…”

            Cain leaned back in his chair. “Zero doesn’t remember his past. Besides, you oversee the practices, and the brigade is composed of elite soldiers. Do you not trust them to neutralize any threat one man could pose?”

            Signas dipped his head. “Yes, Your Grace. I’ll see to it.”

            “Good. Then, starting tomorrow, you’ll have a sword in your hands again, Zero. I trust that you’ll do much good for us with it,” said Cain.

            X smiled. Zero couldn’t help but smile, too.

           


End file.
